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schencka
Autumnal poem (for class today)
Autumnal poem (for class today)

It's a frail stem that becomes brittle and falls,
then a squirrel uses the red leaf to cover an acorn which will soon be forgotten.
Autumn smiles its august wares, but where do the baby animals,
... born in spring, go in this harsh wintertime?
Some must die; I'll join them in time.
Others stand proud, which I plan to do every winter, failing in this.
I've read that each animal has a maximum of breaths--about two million--then we pass on.
Grandma Schenck is turning 95.
Autumn is a frail stem that becomes brittle and falls.
No profanes - sacred
 
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